| I been missin' in action, on resorts just relaxin'
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| Lookin' in the water while the dolphins is passin'
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| Underneath, a long way from the streets
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| I slung yay with the beasts, I seen war turn to peace
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| Then right back into war
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| I never bought a gun out the store
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| But I bought one at school from a fool before
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| I got a 77 box sittin' on top 4s
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| Sittin' up real high, windows up real high
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| I got my .50 in my lap cuz' I don’t trust no guy
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| I ain’t into swine, but I’m into pushin' a line
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| All my young niggas see me, they stuck to the grind
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| Now matter how much I smoke, I keep seein' ghosts
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| Chop a zip then post, with spitters online
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| Most my niggas is blind, they don’t see a nigga state to state tryna shine
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| They say Fat Tone didn’t kill Mac Dre, and Puffness don’t shine
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| Look nigga, I’m just a crook nigga
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| I ran up in D-Boy's house and took skrilla
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| Like fuck you niggas, I need a vacation
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| When it comes to the streets, you have no relation
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| Yee, I be MIA, yeah MIA
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| Very front seat Heat game like I’m finna play
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| Coppin' whips, buyin' shit nigga like I’m finna stay
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| I’m out a nigga house, niggas never been away
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| After Q, before Pac, now a 19 Glock
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| 91, I seen killas with a curl on top
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| 2−6 and Cuddy had the fiends on hop
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| Back then moms threw away her dreams for rock
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| We knockin' Too Short bein' seen in drops
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| Dougie Fresh keep risin', keep risin' to the top
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| Young Niggas soon to murder realize I seen a lot
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| Make Salat in the night time, knowledge is power
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| I’m in NYC standin' by what used to be towers
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| I used to be in Martinez bull pen for hours
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| Interrogation from the boys was my quietest hour
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| I was right behind the gun blast, rainin' lead showers
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| I used to be young, hang around cowards
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| Acting like gangstas tryna figure out what my style was
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| That’s too deep for you squares to comprehend
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| I’m on top of my game, on the run from the law again
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| Yee, I be MIA, yeah MIA
|
| Very front seat Heat game like I’m finna play
|
| Coppin' whips, buyin' shit nigga like I’m finna stay
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| I’m out a nigga house, niggas never been away
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| You talkin' hella shit, look at me in my eyes
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| It’s coo cuz' when I return somebody gon' die
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| Somebody gon' ride along side ya, and open fire
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| I’m burnin' more trees than the Oakland Hills Fire
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| Mothafucka I’m ice cream cold, I spit dry ice
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| Made it snow in the summer, thank God for my supplier
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| Muder is for hire, make dealers retire
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| I hate dealin' with liars, nigga you ain’t lie to be rich
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| High school drop out that didn’t win the lottery
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| I’m a dope MC, the world expect a lot from me
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| So I’ma hold it down, when my niggas ain’t around
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| I’ma stand my ground, like I’m the only one in town
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| I don’t give a fuck, it’s hard but I ain’t givin' up
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| I can lose all I got, I’ll still live it up
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| I still live in the slums, nigga dumb as fuck
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| I made a hundred thousand ones when I was young as fuck
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| We made the world love The Bay every place we went
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| We kept it lit, we really with the shit
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| I can teach you kicks, like Mr. Miyagi
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| Windows up, smokin' tryna contemplate a robbery
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| Yee, I be MIA, yeah MIA
|
| Very front seat Heat game like I’m finna play
|
| Coppin' whips, buyin' shit nigga like I’m finna stay
|
| I’m out a nigga house, niggas never been away |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Sicilian Breeze , by - The Jacka. Song from the album Demolition Men Presents The Jacka Is The Dopest, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп